


When the Lie Becomes the Truth

by LovingCSFanfiction



Series: Swan Lips and Pirate Ships (CS One Shots) [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Swearing, cs au week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-01
Updated: 2015-08-01
Packaged: 2018-04-12 08:40:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4472708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovingCSFanfiction/pseuds/LovingCSFanfiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Out with it, Swan.”</p>
<p>She looks taken aback by his statement. “I don’t know what you’re—”</p>
<p>“You’ve been staring at your hot chocolate all afternoon and haven’t said a word. That only happens when something’s on your mind.”</p>
<p>Taking a deep breath, she sighs. “I did something bad…”</p>
<p>His eyebrows rise at her confession, but the only thing he can say is, “Aye?”</p>
<p> “But I’m not sure how to tell you.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	When the Lie Becomes the Truth

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the tumblr prompt: “we’re only engaged to get our parents off our backs and you’re in love with somebody else so feel free to hook up with them idc i’m not jealous (yes i am)”
> 
> \---
> 
> A/N: So, I got this a few weeks ago and wrote 10,000 words, but couldn’t decide how to end it. I’m not quite sure I love the ending, but I figure that I need to just go with it instead of over-thinking it too much (esp. since today is Modern Trope day). I changed this prompt a bit, but it’s generally the same. 
> 
> With no further ado, here is a 10,700-word one-shot.

“Out with it, Swan.”

She looks taken aback by his statement. “I don’t know what you’re—”

“You’ve been staring at your hot chocolate all afternoon and haven’t said a word. That only happens when something’s on your mind.”

Taking a deep breath, she sighs. “I did something bad…”

His eyebrows rise at her confession, but the only thing he can say is, “Aye?”

 “But I’m not sure how to tell you.”

He doesn’t know if he’s more intrigued or concerned, so he leans back in his chair and waits for her to tell him her news.

“I told my parents I was engaged…” She finally looks up at him again, and if the fear in her eyes tells him anything, it’s that there is more to the story.

“Oh, Swan. What did you do?”

Her frown deepens as she tells the story. “I was over for dinner and my parents said that their friend’s kid got married, and when my mom and I were alone washing dishes after, she started offering up life advice and saying the lady across the street’s son is about my age, and I just kind of… told her I was engaged.”

If she didn’t look so sad, he would have laughed. “And to whom might you be engaged to?”

She bites her bottom lip. “You.”

His mouth drops, and all the humor he had prior was immediately gone. “Me?”

“Yes and I don’t know why your name came out… It was the first name that I thought of and it just, sort of, happened, okay?”

“So, why exactly are you telling me this tale?”

“I have a big favor to ask…”

—

“She wants you to pretend to be engaged to her?” Robin asks, and he nods his head in agreement. “For how long?”

“She just said indefinitely, until one of us really gets engaged or married. I don’t know what to do! She looked so sad and lost and… I didn’t say no, I just told her I needed to think about it.”

Robin shakes his head. “This is only going to end badly. You need to break this off.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” he waves his arms in frustration at his warning. “What am I supposed to tell Milah?”

“She still married to that Gold guy?”

“Yeah, and I just wish she’d leave him already.”

Robin’s eyes suddenly light up, and his face morphs into a grin as he shifts forward. “This is actually the best thing that could have happened, mate!”

“What are you talking about? You  _just_  said this couldn’t end well.”

Robin merely grins. “It’s a win-win for both of you. Emma’s going to be able to tell her parents she’s engaged, and she can just keep putting off the wedding, and  _you_ can tell Milah  _you’re_  engaged, and maybe that will speed up the process. You know, like, she has to leave her husband before it’s too late. Make her jealous.”

He cocks his head, studying his friend as millions of thoughts run though his mind. His plan would take a lot of work and could be difficult to pull off, but if they did it right, it could work. Maybe Milah will finally,  _finally_  leave her husband, and they can be a family.

He grins as he takes out his phone and texts Emma two words.

_I’m in._

—

They’ve only been driving for fifteen minutes, fighting over the radio station and laughing about sweet nothing when her face drops.

“I know you’ve never met my parents before, but—”

“Don’t worry, Swan. I’m great with  _this_  dinner.”

She bites her lip, and he’s surprised there isn’t an indent from every time she’s nervous. “It’s just… My parents can sometimes be a little intense. Like, without even thinking about it, they act all lovey-dovey, but it’s real, you know? And so just ignore it and try to keep your eye rolls to a minimum.”

He chuckles at her warning. “Please, I can handle anything.”

“I don’t doubt that…”

They sat in silence for a little bit before he finally asks. “What are the ground rules?”

She tilted her head, considering his question. “Well, obviously if we’re engaged, we’re very in love.”

“Obviously.”

“I guess, could you hold my hand when we go in?”

“Left or right?” He jokes, and she turns to look at him, and she looks absolutely terrified. He frowns and stops his teasing, the realization that this is more serious to her than he thought making his heart speed up. “I will gladly escort you to the door, holding your hand.”

She nods before going back to the road.

“Just, stay by my side, and maybe don’t call me Swan? They’ll think it’s weird you’re not calling me by my first name…”

“Emma,” he tests the word on his mouth. He hasn’t referred to her like that since they met freshman year in college, nearly ten years ago. “Alright, no Swan.”

“You already know everything about me, so just be honest when they ask questions. You don’t have to lie about how we met or anything,” she takes another breath, but it was brief and shallow.

“When did we start dating?”

“I told them we met freshman year of college and danced around each other until two years ago, but I didn’t tell them because I was afraid I’d screw something up.”

“And how did we get engaged?”

Her face completely fell. “You know what? This is stupid. Let’s just turn around and go—”

“Absolutely not.” He reaches over the console and squeezes her shoulder. “Tell me, how did you always imagine someone would propose to you?”

“Well…” She stares straight into the night, avoiding his eyesight like it’s the plague. “I want to be surprised, like it’s coming out of the blue, you know? And… and it’s just really romantic, like under the stars or something. And…”

“Did I give you flowers?”

“If you think you—”

“No. This is your ideal engagement you get to tell. What would it look like? And I want specific details.”

She sinks into her seat. “How about you take me onto The Jolly at night for a late cruise, with dinner on the deck.” She looks at him quickly at the stoplight. “Then we sit underneath the stars once we’re on the open water, and you point out constellations, and I was confused when you rolled over, but then you pulled out a ring—”

“Oh my god, you don’t have a ring!” he says, zeroing in on her left ring finger.

She almost looks ashamed as she gives a weak smile, telling him to open the glove compartment. A little velvet box falls out onto his lap. “I got this at the drugstore. I figured it looks good enough to pass as a real engagement ring whenever we’re around them.”

He looks at the cheap gold band with one sparkly diamond in the middle. “It looks like it’ll give you a green stain on your finger.”

She swallows, and her voice cracks when she speaks. “I thought it would be stupid to spend much more on a fake ring for a fake engagement.”

“Your parents are going to think I’m cheap!”

“Killian, it doesn’t matter…” Her voice is sad, and all he wants is to make her smile, to make his best friend happy again.

They pull up to a white house and a picket fence that shines bright, despite the darkness of the night. Right as she turns off the ignition, he grabs her shoulder and forces her body towards him.

“Swan, will you be my fake fiancé?” he asks, and uses his most serious voice, placing the ring in both of his hand and acting like it is a real engagement.

For the first time all night, her shoulders relax, and she actually giggles. “Yes.” She holds out her left hand and he slides it onto her ring finger.

“Perfect fit.”

“Are you ready?”

“To meet the fiancé’s parents? Always.” They exit the car and walk around to each other.

Once they meet, she makes sure their eyes meet before she says, “You’re such a good friend for doing this for me, Killian. I can’t thank you enough.”

He reaches down and pulls her hand up to his mouth, placing a soft kiss above the ring. Her eyes widen in confusion, and he gives her a wicked grin. “Your mother is standing at the window.”

She turns towards the house and sees her mother step away from the window, the curtain falling quickly once she’s caught. She let’s out a sigh. “Here goes nothing.”

They grab hands and, together, they walk up to the door.

—

After goodbyes, they walked, hand in hand, back to the car. Giving one final wave to her parents in the window, they got into the car and started to drive away.

Once they turned the corner, she finally let out a breath. “Oh my god, Killian, they loved you.”

“You think so?”

She actually let out a laugh. “I think my mother wanted to bring us to the courthouse right now!” He chuckles at her glee, silently waiting for her to continue. “You should get an Oscar, by the way. I’ve never seen such talented acting before.”

He rolls his eyes at her. “Please. I almost laughed out loud when you told that story about college, but made it seem like we had some sort of dalliance all along.”

“It wasn’t as bad as when you said you were always jealous of Walsh,” she teases, laughing again. “How could you ever be jealous of that monkey?”

He shakes his head, remembering when Mary Margaret and David said they never liked him, either. “I have to say, Swan, we make a cute engaged couple…”

She smiles, keeping her eyes on the road.

“Now, I have a favor to ask you.”

“After what you just did for me?  _Anything_.” He hasn’t seen her this lighthearted in a while, and he can’t help but enjoy having  _this_  Emma back.

“I need you to pretend to be  _my_  fiancé.”

She’s still smiling when she turns to face him. “That was my favor.”

“Robin… suggested… that you and I use this fake engagement for my own benefit, as well.”

“You don’t have parents to get off your back.” She says it so nonchalantly that it speaks for their friendship, that they’ve been partners in crime for so long that they don’t have to dance around even the hardest of memories.

It’s what makes his next request all the easier to say.

“It’s not to get someone off my back, but more to get someone  _on_ …”

She lets out a large bark. “What does that even mean?”

“Well, Robin thinks that pretending we’re engaged could be the perfect push to get Milah to leave her husband. Like, she only has so much time before she’d lose me.”

Her face immediately drops, all signs of their hilarious evening behind them, as if it never even happened. “You’re still pursuing her?”

“Yeah, and I just need to give her a reason to divorce him, and I think our fake engagement could be the perfect thing.” Her face hardens at his words, and he can’t quite decipher what her new expression means.

“Don’t you think that’s a bad idea?” she asks, and her voice wavers slightly.

He cocks his head, one eyebrow raised. “No worse than lying to one’s parents about an engagement.”

Her body stills, and he knows he said the worst thing he could possibly say to get her on board with the situation. “No, I suppose it’s not.”

When they pull up to the next stoplight, she takes her right hand and pulls the cheap engagement ring off her finger, dropping it in one of the cup holders, not saying a word while she does it.

“Swan, I didn’t mean—”

She brings her left cheek up to smile, but it ends up being nothing more than a grimace. “So how do we do it? For Milah?” Her voice is cold and detached, and he swallows at how strained her neck has become. “We can’t just go over for a dinner.”

“Robin suggested that we take engagement photos and send out a fake engagement announcement…” He trails off. He always knew Milah was a sore subject for her, but he never thought she’d be so against this idea. She lied to her own  _parents_  about being engaged, why was she so against this?

“Sounds good. The snow will make for a nice background.” She pulls up in front of his apartment building. “When do you want to do it?” she stares at the ring in the cup holder.

“Are you free at all Sunday?”

She nods her head slightly before giving him a hug. “Thank you for tonight.”

He wraps his arms around her, wishing she would just look him in the eye. “Anything for you, Swan.” He brushes his hand down her golden hair, and suddenly she pulls back.

“Make sure you wear your blue shirt I said matches your eyes. I’ll be able to find something to go with it.”

He puts his finger under her chin and lifts her head up. He studies her face for a second before smiling. “Your father was staring daggers at me until I said I liked the Red Socks.”

She finally grins again while rolling her eyes. “They weren’t  _daggers_ …”

Happy that she was acting like herself again, he puts his hand on the door. “Goodnight, Swan. I enjoyed having you as a fake fiancé tonight. I think we make a good couple.”

“Yeah.” She pressed the unlock button, and the soft clicking of the doors filled the car. “I’ll see you Sunday, okay? Text me the time.”

—

She rolls her eyes as she strolls in his apartment. “Killian, I  _told_  you to wear the blue one!” she scolds, already in his bedroom and pulling out drawers.

“This one  _is_  blue, love!” he shouts back, standing in the doorway. He crosses his arm, waiting for her to come out of his room.

She finally stomps out, bringing with her a sweater she got him for Christmas two years ago. “But, I  _told_  you to wear this one!” she shakes it at him, unfolding it and reaching for his leather jacket. “That one is just going to make the picture look silly.”

He helps her out of his coat, and he unbuttons the blue Polo he was wearing, shirking it off and putting it on top of a barstool. “Well, if it’s going to make it silly…” He pulls it over his head and flattens it across his body. “Better?”

“Much.” She picks up his leather jacket that fell on the floor and passes it to him. “Come on. Robin’s waiting downstairs.”

Just as she reaches the door, he stops her. “Do you have your engagement ring?”

She pulls off her left glove and wiggles her fingers, the cheap ring barely glistening in the well-lit room. “We can’t take engagement photos without having  _one_  that focuses on my ring.”

They laugh as he grabs a scarf, and together they walk downstairs and out into Robin’s car.

—

It’s a short drive to the local park, and the three get out of the car and trudge through the snow until they are in an area with very little footprints. Emma starts taking off her jacket, revealing a muted gray sweater. “Bloody hell, Swan. It’s too cold, put your jacket on!”

“No, you take yours off!” He shakes his head in defeat as he drops his jacket, the frozen air hitting him like a thousand darts. “Damn, it’s cold!”

“This will go faster if you just cooperate, so be quiet and smile.”

“Okay… Why don’t you guys just start by holding hands or something…” Robin says, looking at the screen of his digital camera. “And go over there – the trees will make the background look better.”

“It looks like we have a real Annie Liebovitz taking our photos, Swan,” he teases, and he feels a snowball hit his shoulder coming from Robin’s direction. “Hey!”

“Shut up,” she whispers, grabbing his hand and dragging him towards the open space. “You asked for this.”

“Okay, look in love.” Robin chuckles when he shoots him a look. “If you guys are engaged, you’ve got to look like you at least have  _some_  feelings for each other. Just, lace your hands together, or something.”

He follows their “photographer’s” direction and lace their hands together, and suddenly he’s staring right at his fake fiancé. “Smile!” he hears in the distance, but he’s too busy giggling at how she scrunched up her nose.

Robin tells them to just act natural, and so they do. At one point, she throws a snowball at him, and they end up laughing so hard that his stomach muscles spasm. They do intimate poses hugging, they do serious faces, smiling faces, faces where she’s looking over his shoulder in a way saying “I’m in love with this guy, so back off.”

They’re laughing at a goofy picture they had just taken when Robin yells, “Kiss her!” while looking at the camera, and Emma’s face drops, stopping all movements and standing still at the suggestion.

He turns to their friend with a raised eyebrow. “What?”

Robin rolls his eyes, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Are you trying to tell me two engaged adults, who have been dating for two years and have known each other for ten, aren’t kissing?”

He turns to her, and looks at her face. Finally, a smile forms of her face. “You couldn’t handle it,” she says, as if egging him on.

He takes the bait. “Perhaps  _you’re_  the one who couldn’t handle it.”

They stare at each other for a moment, and he thinks that she’s just going to back away when she reaches for him, taking one hand and fisting his shirt while the other cups his neck and pulls him until their mouths meet.

In the ten years they’ve known each other, he’d be lying if he said he’s never thought about what kissing Emma Swan might be like, and his body must have been eager to find out. After the initial shock was gone, he relaxed into it, opening his mouth and letting her deepen their kiss.

His hand moves to the small of her back and the other rests on her hair as they stand kissing each other, and when she pulls away and looks at him, she laughs. “You look absolutely wrecked, Jones,” she whispers, not loud enough for Robin to hear.

He takes his hand off her and uses it to wipe his mouth. “Whatever,” is all he can get out of himself, taking one step back and turning towards Robin.

“My arse is getting cold. Let’s go,” Robin yells.

He lets out a laugh. “You’re wearing a nice warm jacket. Swan and I are over here without any warmth.”

“You had each other’s body heat for warmth.”

They all laugh as they get into his car and drive back to his apartment.

—

“That one’s good!” Robin says, pointing to the one where Emma is hugging him from behind, and he’s laughing into sweet nothing as she’s laughing towards the camera.

“I don’t know. I’m still fond of the one where we’re sitting on the bench,” she replies, double clicking the one in the corner to make it big again.

“I like the one where we’re holding hands and looking at each other, but it looks like we’re walking away,” he says, pointing with his hand for her to click on one of their pictures.

She pulls it up and shakes her head. “No way, Jones. My ass looks huge.”

He leans into the computer, staring at her side of the picture. “It does not! It’s a sweet little ass!”

Robin takes the mouse from Emma and clicks on one of the ones where they’re kissing. “I still like this one best,” he says.

He tilts his head as he looks at it, staring at the way their eyes are closed and how the cheap ring that Emma found is somehow glittering for the camera. “What about a college?” he suggests, and she turns to face him.

“Okay. We’ll each choose one,” and, before the boys can agree, Emma adds, “but I’m vetoing any one that makes my ass looks big.”

—

When the drugstore calls them and tells them their engagement announcements are ready, they go together to pick them up. “Congratulations on your engagement!” the store clerk says as she gives them their photos. “These look gorgeous.”

She smiles at the clerk and says thank you, and the two of them go out to his car and huddle into the front seat. She takes out the cards and they look at them together.

“These are actually pretty good, Swan!” he says, patting her on the back. “Well done, love.”

She rolls her eyes. It ended up being a vertical announcement. The picture Robin liked where they’re kissing large on the left, with three squares on the right. The top one had the picture Emma liked with them sitting on the bench, and another one that Emma liked was on the bottom square. In the middle were the words,  _“Emma & Killian, Engaged February 14, 2015.”_

“I’ll admit, Swan, that picture with us holding hands and looking at each other looks much better on this one than the one I picked out.”

“See? This is why I don’t let you choose things.”

They laugh as they go to the post office, buy two “engagement” stamps, and go back to his apartment to send Milah and the Swans their engagement announcement.

—

“OPEN UP, KILLIAN FUCKING JONES!” he hears from outside his door. He slowly comes back into consciousness as the insistent pounding continues. He looks over at his phone and sees 12 missed texts from Milah, and as he swipes to view them, it’s obvious that she has finally gotten their engagement photos.

It’s 3:00 in the morning, but he quickly puts on some plaid pajama pants and walks over to answer the door.

Standing before him is an irate Milah. She throws a crumbled engagement card at him. “Are you fucking  _kidding me_?” she yells, and he ushers her in before the entire apartment complex hears her.

 “What?” he tries to act nonchalantly, like he doesn’t know what is bothering her.

“Really, Killian?” she screams, picking up the card and opening it up and shoving it in his face. She starts pacing the room. “I can’t believe this… I can’t!”

Keeping on his act, he walks over to table and sits down. “Well, nothing was happening with  _you_ , and I couldn’t wait forever.” He leans back in his chair, putting his hands behind his back and his feet up on the chair next to him. “I figured, if you’re going to move on, I should, too.

“With  _Emma_?” She points a finger at him. “I knew you loved her. I fucking knew it!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

She walks around the table and slaps him, and this isn’t quite going how he had planned. “I knew there was more to your relationship than just friends. There’s no way you could be that close without fucking on the side.”

He stands up, waving his hands. “We  _were_  just friends! But then she was there all those times you left me for Gold and things sort of grew!” He puts a hand on each of her shoulders. “I waited  _years_  for you, Milah! Am I just supposed to be your boy toy forever?”

“Fuck you,” she says, turning around, ripping up the engagement photo. “This is… I don’t…”

She turns around and runs towards him, forcing herself on him and kissing him senseless. He pushes off her jacket as she pushes him backwards, through the apartment she’s been to more times he can count.

“Is  _she_  here?” she asks between kisses, reaching down and palming him through his pajama pants.

He shakes his head, and that’s the last thing said before they walk into his room and fall into his bed.

—

“I’m going to leave him,” Milah says, buckling her bra again. “I’m serious this time.”

His eyebrows shoot up. “Where have I heard that before?”

She leans down and kisses him, pushing him further and further into the mattress. “Just, leave her and we can be together.” She whispers it, hovering over him.

He’s breathing heavily. “I’ll leave her when you leave Gold.”

She stands up, moving around the room and putting on her pants, socks, shirt, and shoes. “I need some insurance before I leave him. How do I know I won’t divorce him, and then you’ll just run away with Emma?”

He stands up and walks over to her. “Would I sleep with you if I weren’t willing to leave her?”

She purses her lips and leans in for another kiss. “I’ve got to go before Bae wakes up. Have a good day.”

He walks her out the door, closing it behind her, and sliding down the door. He ran his fingers through his messy hair before leaning it back on the wood behind him, a small smile forming on his face.

—

He’s waiting at Granny’s for their weekly Wednesday coffee. He’s already ordered her a hot cocoa with cinnamon and is waiting to tell her the good news.

He hears the bells ring as someone hastily walks in and slides in the booth across from him. “I’m sorry I’m late.”

He smiles and takes a sip of his coffee. “It’s not a surprise any more, love.”

She laughs as she takes a drink.

“Well, I have some good news,” he says, leaning forward. “Our plan is working!” He whispers it, as if someone else could know what he was talking about.

“What?” she scrunches up her face in confusion, taking another sip and licking her lips.

He leans back with a smug smile. “Milah came over last night. She got our engagement announcement.”

She frowns, but tries to hide it by taking another sip. “Oh?”

“Aye, and she’s quite jealous.” He turns his cup around in his hand. “She said she’s leaving Gold for good this time.”

She nods her head, but doesn’t say a word.

“What?” he asks.

“Nothing,” she replies, but her voice is off, and he knows something is up.

“Spill,” he orders, and her shoulders lower in concession.

“It’s just… Hasn’t she said that before?  _For real this time?_ ” She uses air quotes and slows down her speech at the last part, and he can’t help but feel betrayed.

“I think she’s going to do it this time, though. She said she’s going to leave Gold as soon as I leave you.”

“Did she, now?” She makes a grunting noise and rolls her eyes. “Did you agree? To dump me?”

He felt anger start to simmer under his skin. “We’re not  _really_  engaged, Emma. This is what we wanted.”

“So, what? You fucked her and now you believe she’s going to leave her  _husband_  for you? News flash, Killian. That’s all your relationship has ever been with her! One fuck after another, one broken promise after another.”

“This is what we  _wanted_ , Swan. To get our respective parties to believe we’re engaged and in love. That’s what this  _is_.”

“No. This was to get my parents off my back with a few dinners every once in a while.”

“Why can it only benefit you? Why can’t I use this fake relationship at my disposal, too?”

She crosses her arms in front of her body, her lip pouting, and it takes her a while before she calms her breathing. “You’re right.” She holds up her hands in defeat. “I’m sorry. I’m happy for you. Congrats on the sex.”

She slides out of the booth, pulling her wallet out of her purse and forcing five dollars into his hands. “Emma, wait…”

She doesn’t even look at him when she asks her next question. “My mom wants us to come over for dinner on Friday. Are you free?”

“Of course,” he says. “I’ll clear my schedule.”

Still avoiding his gaze, she dips her head in acknowledgement before leaving the diner.

He watches her turn right and walk in front of the window once she’s outside. She’s wiping her eyes and her bottom lip trembles as she leaves him there.

—

“No, you’re not leaving,” David says, closing the curtains and turning around. “It’s a beast out there! You guys are staying here for the night.”

It had been smooth sailing when they showed up at her parents’ house, but somehow it turned into a nasty storm – one of the biggest blizzards they’ve ever seen in March.

“Daaaad….” She whined, and he smiles at how she reverts back to a little kid around her father. “Killian and I have to—”

Mary Margaret shakes her head. “It’s not safe for you to leave, honey. Besides, your little bug probably won’t start in this cold weather, anyway. I told you to get a new car.”

“I’ve told her the same things for years,” he says, laughing when David claps his back and tells Emma she should listen to him.

She pouts and crosses her arms, tapping her toe. She turns to him. “Do you have to be anywhere tomorrow morning?”

“Nothing I can’t get out of,” he shrugs.

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “Fine.” She turns towards her parents. “But we have to go as soon as the snow clears tomorrow.”

Mary Margaret’s giddiness is clear, and David starts walking upstairs. “I’ll just get you a pillow and blanket, Killian, and you can sleep on the—”

“Absolutely not, David,” her mother says, calling up the stairs. She turns to him and smiles. “Obviously, you can sleep in Emma’s room.”

He would have laughed at David’s eyes bugging out if his own heart rate hadn’t sped up. “Oh, I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable…” he starts, but Mary Margaret waves him off.

“Everyone will be fine,” she says, turning around and going up the stairs. “You two, turn off the lights when you come up, alright?”

Her mother pushes David up the stairs and leaves them alone for the first time since they got there.

“I’m kind of tired,” she says, looking down at her hand and playing with the engagement ring. He finds it funny, how quickly it had become a tick for her, and he grabs her hands and forces her to look up at him.

“You should go up to bed. I’ll sleep down here.”

She shakes her head. “You  _can’t_ , Killian. It will seem fishy if my mother offers you my bed and you choose to sleep on the couch.”

Killian shrugs. “Then, I suppose we’re roommates for the night.”

She drops one of his hands, taking a deep breath, and pulls him up the stairs through the narrow hallway. She points to a closed door and tells him that’s the bathroom, and then opens the door across the hall and pulls him inside.

He starts walking around the room, looking at the trinkets, pictures, and posters. “So, this is Emma Swan’s room.”

She rolls her eyes. “Please. You’ve been in my room before.”

“Ah, but not your  _childhood_  room.” He stares at her top shelf of trophies. “You hadn’t mentioned your love for gymnastics resulted in so many first places.”

She comes and stands next to him, a nostalgic smile coming over her face. “It’s not like I was at an Olympic level or anything.”

“These trophies beg to differ,” he says, walking around the room again. Suddenly, he spots 13 books stacked on a shelf. “Are those  _yearbooks_ , Swan?”

Before she can stop him, he jumps over the bed and pulls out the most recent one. “Let’s see my little duckling in high school, shall we?”

“ _Killian…_ ” she whines, but doesn’t do anything other than move to sit next to him on the bed.

He goes to the index and instantly finds her name, following the guides that tell him which pages she’d be on.

He first opens up to her senior photo and smiles at the simplicity of it. She was in a green cardigan, her hair curled, and she was sitting in a garden with a big grin on her face. She was so young, yet she still looked like she had the same spirit she has now.

He turns the pages to find she was on homecoming court, and he drew a breath and how gorgeous she looked in her form-fitting red dress. “Who’s your date?” he asks, pointing to the man next to her.

“I’ve told you about Neal before.” Her face is a sad smile, as if the memory of him is good, but it’s not something she wants to remember. “I don’t even know where he is now. Good riddance.” She urges him to turn the page, and he looks at her over his shoulder, unsure if he should be peeking at her.

A few drunken nights within their ten years together, she told him about the high school boyfriend who got her pregnant and left town without a trace. She doesn’t like to think of him, with all the pain it brings her, and it’s a wonder she’s let anyone in since.

“Ah, that was my best friend, Ruby.” She points to a girl with long brown hair and a single red streak, and he focuses back on the yearbook. “You’ve met her a couple of times when she came to visit college. I think she’s married to a doctor now…

“Oh, and that’s when I won my high school gymnastics tournament,” she says, pointing to a page where she’s smiling with a trophy in her hand. “My parents were really proud that day…” Any hint of happiness of the memory left. “I think that was the last time I competed in gymnastics. I had to give it up after that…”

She closes the yearbook and takes it from his hands, moving to her shelf and placing it back. She walks over to the window and hugs herself, not looking at him. “My dad was right, it’s terrible out there. I can’t even see the roof of my car.”

Her tone is off, but he takes the change of subject and goes with it. “We need to move to Tallahassee, Swan. Perhaps we can have our honeymoon there?”

She gives one chuckle before turning back to face him. “No, I’d want us to visit Ireland so you could show me where you grew up.” She walks over to her dresser and takes out a pajama set. “I’ll go change… Be back in a second.” She leaves him alone in the room as she goes across the hall to change.

He grabs one of the pillows and a blanket sitting on a chair and makes himself a bed. He takes off his jeans and button up, folding them into a pile and placing them on the vacant chair. He’s left only in his boxers and a white undershirt, and crawls under his “bed” just as the door opens.

“Can you turn off the lights, Swan?” he asks, closing his eyes and turning on his side.

“You are  _not_  sleeping on the floor.” She replies, grabbing his arm and forcing him to stand. “There have been plenty of times you’ve slept in my bed before.”

“Aye, but those have been nights where I’ve been too drunk to stand, and not in the room next to your parents.”

Her only response is to grab the pillow from the floor and throw it next to the one on her bed and drag him to the open spot. She pushes him down on it and goes to the other side of the bed to crawl underneath the covers after turning off the lights.

She turns to her side so her back is facing him. “Goodnight, Killian,” she says, and her voice is breathy and small.

“Goodnight, Swan,” he replies, and he does his best to calm his breathing and fall asleep.

—

He wakes up a bit disoriented. He’s not in  _his_  bed, there’s too much light in the room, and the sheets are softer than what he’s used to. It’s only when he opens his eyes that he remembers the previous night, and how he had to stay the night at the Swans because of the blizzard.

He looks over his shoulder to find a vacant spot, leaving him alone in Emma’s room. He stands up and puts on his pants, walking over to the window to close the shades a bit. Outside, he sees David plowing the driveway, her little bug still covered completely in snow. He drops the shade and turns around, ready to go downstairs.

While walking through the hallway, he smells pancakes and his stomach jolts at the thought of a hot breakfast. Just as he is about to enter the kitchen and offer a joke, he overhears his best friend and her mother talking.

_“So tell me. Have you picked out a date?”_

_“No, mom.”_

_“Well, have you looked at places? You’ll have to book—”_

_“We’re both really busy right now and not in a rush for anything.”_

_“Your engagement announcement was lovely. I immediately showed Ashley the card when we got it.”_

_“Thanks.”_

_“Why are you so down, sweetie?”_

_“Everything’s fine, I promise.”_

There was a pause, and he was about to go in and make some grand entrance when her mother began talking again.

_“I see why you’ve liked him so much all these years, Emma.”_

_“Yeah, well…”_

_“You deserve this. After everything you’ve been through, you deserve to be happy, and I can tell how happy he makes you.”_

_“He does. I can’t imagine my life without him… He’s my best friend.”_

_“Why did it take you guys so long to work it out? You told me freshman year of college that you had your eye on that boy, and I have a hard time believing it took eight years for you two to finally come together.”_

_“I don’t know… People got in the way, I guess. I had Graham and Walsh, he had Milah, and it just… I don’t know, Mom. I just don’t think he ever saw me that way.”_

_“Well, at least you’re together now.”_

_“Mhmm.”_

_“I just wish you had went for it all those years ago. It would have made all those calls when he got back together with Milah less painful for us, knowing, as parents, a broken heart was the one thing we’d never be able to fix.”_

_“Milah has always been Killian’s weakness. He’s never seen her for the woman she is. She treats him so badly, and it makes me… It makes me…”_

_“I know, honey. It really hurts that someone who tossed his heart around so recklessly was able to steal it.”_

There was another pause before he hears a chair scoot back and socks quickly walk.

_“Oh, Emma, I didn’t mean to make you cry. Milah doesn’t matter anymore. He’s yours. You’re the woman he’s going to marry. You’re the one he’s going to spend the rest of his life with.”_

_“I just… Hate thinking about that woman.”_

He swallows, this situation becoming too real. He’s only heard Emma cry in a handful of situations, but it’s never sounded like  _that_. That’s the cry of heartbreak, and he can’t stand the idea that he is the one who made her feel that way.

He begins backing up slowly, ignoring the hunger pains in his stomach. He does his best to climb up the stairs silently, back into Emma’s room, where he can be alone to think about what he just overheard.

He had no idea Emma’s feelings for him, let alone the extent of them. She’s never _really_  shown any sign of romantic feelings for him in the ten years they’ve known each other, if drunken flirting doesn’t count.

But maybe he’s missed the signs? She’s never been supportive of Milah, although he had always assumed that was because she was married. She’s only had two real boyfriends in ten years, and she claims that all she wants are one-night-stands. He figured that was because of Neal, and how much he hurt her when she was 17. He never  _once_  thought it could be because she was waiting for someone else to see her.

For  _him_  to see her.

He doesn’t get a chance to think on it any more because there is a soft knock on the door. He turns to find Emma smiling like her usual self, as if she wasn’t just crying downstairs. His chest hurts just seeing her, seeing this woman bottle up all her feelings. He agrees with Mary Margaret – he wishes she had just told him  _once_  in ten years.

“So, I have some bad news.”

“Aye?” he can’t muster anything better out, so he settles for one word, and even then he knows it doesn’t sound right coming out of his mouth.

“We have to leave in the next twenty minutes if we want to beat the next blizzard, but my car won’t start…”

He doesn’t say anything, just stares at her, unable to talk.

“So… Are you going to hate me if I say we had to stay another night? The weather people on the news say that this will blow over tomorrow, and then we’ll be able to call a mechanic out to figure out what’s wrong with the engine.”

He stands up and walks over to her, putting his arms around her. “I’d never hate you,” he says, softly, into her hair.

She stills in his hug. “Uh, Killian? You okay?”

He steps back, nodding his head. “Yeah. Let me just call Mil—” he stops himself, remembering what he just heard downstairs. “Let me just make a few phone calls to people I had plans with and everything will be fine.”

“Okay…” She tilts her head, studying him, and she knows something is wrong. “Well, my mom and I made pancakes, if you want to come down and have some.”

He tries to give a smile while he picks up his phone. “That sounds wonderful, Swan. I’ll be down in a moment.”

—

David is right when he said there was only a 20-minute span for them to leave. Just as he’s asking Mary Margaret to pass him the syrup, sprinkles of snow start falling, and then they keep falling until they become bigger and heavier, until they can’t see anything outside other than the wind blowing the snowflakes.

He doesn’t talk very much that day, only supplying sufficient answers to the questions The Swans ask.

He’s watching her more closely, trying to decipher all her movements and behaviors. He knows she can tell he’s acting off, but she doesn’t ask him about it. He’s thankful for that, because there’s no way he’d be able to give a decent reason for his actions.

He notices the way she flips her hair over her shoulder, or how she rolls her eyes when her dad makes some sort of joke about her being his little girl. She’s still playing with the ring on her finger, and the metal must have been just good enough that it doesn’t stain her skin.

His movements are stiff when she cuddles into him while the family watches a movie. He gently moves his hand to rest on her shoulder, and he breathes her in, trying to decide if he likes this feeling. She looks up at him and mouths, “Thank you,” and he just nods his head, staring at her as she looked back towards the TV.

Before he knew it, they were up in her room again, getting ready for the night. “My parents really like you. My mom was just telling me this morning how wonderful you are,” she says as she’s sliding into the bed. She pats the empty spot next to her. “If I’m to have a fake fiancé, I’m glad I chose the right one for the job.”

He turns off her lights and slowly climbs in to the spot next to her, giving no response to her compliment as he settles onto his back.

“Okay, what’s going on with you today?” she asks, rolling over to look at him. “You’ve been acting weird, and I’ve never seen you go an hour without construing my words into some sort of innuendo.”

“You’re being overdramatic,” he says, still staring at the ceiling.

She stays on her side as she whispers a goodnight, and he finally lets out a breath.

He’s lying there for a while, thinking about her and how she feels sleeping next to him and what it would be like if she  _was_  his girlfriend, or fiancé, or more than what they are. It’s such a foreign concept to him, dating Emma, that he has a hard time comprehending it.

He slowly turns to his side to watch her sleep, maybe seeing her in a state where no one could interrupt him would help him sort out his new and confusing thoughts. But, when he turns to his side, he sees her staring at him with wide eyes.

He isn’t sure what’s happening when he shuffles his body forward, or why his arm is dragging down her arm until he laces their hands together. He doesn’t know what’s happening when he leans forward, placing his lips on hers.

It’s soft, a ghost of what a kiss with her could be like. He can feel when she decides to just go with it, when she moves forward just a bit to bring them closer together. He leans back and studies her face, noticing her wide eyes and confused expression. She’s biting her bottom lip, but she doesn’t look away from him. Instead, her eyes flicker between his lips and his eyes.

He’s still not sure what’s going on, but once again, he leans in to put his lips on hers. She responds immediately, this time, and parts her mouth as a sigh comes out. He uses it to deepen the kiss, running his tongue over her lips and waiting for a silent permission to continue.

It’s new, and different, and definitely not bad. He’s surprised at how well they fit together, how it’s not awkward or weird like he thought it might be. She lets go of his grasp to move her hands to his face, and he rolls them so slightly until he’s hovering over her.

It’s not until he places a hand on her waist that she pulls back from him, their heavy breathing mixing together into the darkness. “What are you doing, Killian?” she whispers, rubbing her thumbs over his cheek bones.

“I don’t know,” he answers, honestly. “I just… I wanted to know what this’d be like.”

She staring at his face, and he’s staring right back, each trying to understand what _this_  is. “Why now?” she asks, her voice barely there.

He studies her before rolling off. “I overheard a conversation between you and your mother this morning.”

She sits up and leans back against the headboard, urging him to do the same. “What exactly did you hear?”

He starts drawing circles on the comforter with his finger, refusing to look at her. “That you’ve been wanting to be with me for ten years, and that you’ve hated my relationship with Milah for other reasons than I thought.”

Now it’s her turn to look away, her breathing suddenly increasing. “You heard that?” She stands up, putting a hand on her forehead and walking towards the door. “I can’t believe… I don’t know…” and, before he can stop her, she’s out the door, closing the door silently behind her.

He immediately slid off the bed, following her out of the room. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks, his voice pleading as he runs down the stairs after her.

“Killian, I don’t want to talk about this, least of all with you.” She moves to the kitchen and finds her mother’s purse and starts digging through it.

“Where are you going?” he asks, standing right beside her.

“Anywhere but here,” she replies, finding the key she’s looking for.

She moves to the front door and grabs her jacket off the hook and swivels around as she puts it on. “Emma, please, don’t leave. We have to talk about this!”

She turns around, and he almost bumps into her. “About what? About how I’ve been in love with you for ten fucking years? That I’ve ruined every relationship I’ve been in because they said I couldn’t love them if I was too busy loving you?” She pushes on his shoulders. “And now you suddenly want me because 12 hours ago you heard my mom say I had a  _crush on you_?”

She turns around again and marches through the door to the garage, walking around the car until she was beside the driver door. He has to stop her – she can’t leave without them at least  _talking_. “Emma, just…”

“So did you kiss me to test if I was okay? To decide if I’m  _good enough_  to date? To see if you’re willing to leave Milah for me?” She yanks the door open and gets in the car, and suddenly he’s running to the passenger door and opening it before she can lock him out.

“I want to—”

“Get out.” Her voice is calm, but it’s still a warning. Not a request, not a demand. “Get out of the car, Killian.”

“No, we need to—”

And then she’s crying, and she hits the steering wheel as her face crumbles. “Don’t do this, Killian.”

He reaches over to touch her shoulder, and for the first time ever, she flinches away from his touch. His chest hurts, seeing her like this, and it pains him that he doesn’t know what to do.

“Emma…”

She shakes her head as she covers her eyes with her arm.

“Please, talk to me,” he whispers. “It’s me, Killian. You can tell me anything.”

She’s trying to control her breathing, and it’s harder than he realizes it would be for her. He waits patiently for her to calm down, wanting nothing more than to bring her into a hug and tell her that everything will be okay.

When she looks at him again, her face is red and her eyes puffy, but she sits up straight, as if that will give her some sort of dignity over him. He lets her have it, knowing that she needs the confidence if they’re going to have this conversation.

“Why do you even like her? She doesn’t treat you well,” she says it softly, her voice still a bit shaky. “She uses you, and you always thinks she’s going to change. I just… What is it about Milah that’s so much better than me?”

His heart sinks at her words, and he reaches over the console to hold her hand. He opens his mouth, but he’s unsure what he wants to say. He knows that he has to be careful with his wording, that saying one wrong thing will mess this 10-year relationship up forever.

But nothing comes out, and she retracts her hand from him. He knows, if anything, _not_  saying anything was a worse choice.

She straightens up and looks out the front window at the garage wall, filled with boxes and boxes of childhood memories. “Please forget what you heard this morning, Killian, and that we ever kissed.” She turns to look at him. “I can’t lose you, too.”

“No, Emma. You can’t just—”

She takes the key out of the ignition and opens her door. “I’m going to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”

He watches her go into the house as he stays in the car. Leaning his head back, his frown deepens as he realizes their friendship is never going to be the same, that he fucked it up by kissing her. He was never going to look her in the eyes the same way again, and she him.

What had he done?

—

He sleeps on the couch that night, explaining to Mary Margaret and David that he fell asleep watching TV and, when he woke in the middle of the night, he didn’t want to wake Emma by going into her room.

She looks absolutely terrible when she comes down. She has bags under her eyes, and she avoids looking at him at all costs. Mary Margaret and David can tell there is something wrong, but they didn’t acknowledge it.

Their family mechanic is at the house by 9:00, and they are able to leave by 10:30. Shaking David’s hand and hugging Mary Margaret, he realizes this could be the last time. They aren’t doing  _that_  great of job at convincing everyone that they’re engaged, and he has a feeling that Emma isn’t going to want to come back here with him any time soon.

As they go out the front door, he reaches for her hand to walk together, but she shies away from it, crossing her hands over her stomach and hurrying up the path. She gives a final wave to her parents, as does he, and silently, they get into her car.

As soon as they turn the corner, she pulls of the fake engagement ring and throws it in the glove compartment, as if the ring was burning her hand. Which, thinking about it, it probably was. He sees her rub her left ring finger with her thumb every once in a while, but he doesn’t comment on it.

The silence is making it hard for him to breath. She stares at the road and drives carefully, acting as if he wasn’t even in the car with him. He feels like his heart is breaking, and it is, but he doesn’t know how to fix it.

“Will you just stop looking at me?” she hisses about ten minutes into the drive.

He slowly looks out the window, placing his elbow on the door and leaning his chin on it. “My apologies,” he mutters.

She drops him off at his apartment a half hour later with nothing more than a quick and shallow “goodbye.”

—

He opens the door to see Milah leaning against it. It’s midnight, and he hasn’t seen her since well before his visit to Emma’s parents the previous weekend. She reaches out and runs a hand through his hair. “I missed you,” she says, leaning forward and planting a seductive kiss on his lips.

He tries to respond to her lips, he really does, but it feels all wrong.

He keeps their heads glued together and pulls her in, pushing all thoughts of Emma out of his mind. He tilts his head to deepen the kiss, pushing his tongue into her mouth and trying to make this feel like  _something_.

But there’s nothing there to feel anymore.

He pulls back as she puts her hands at the bottom of his shirt and yanks it over his head. She takes her index finger and draws lines across his abs. “I  _really_  missed you,” she says as she pushes him back onto his couch and straddles his hips.

She leans down and starts nuzzling his neck, and he can’t help but think how wrong this feels. “Milah, Milah… Wait.”

She licks his neck, whispering “But it’s been so long,” beside his ear.

She kisses down his jaw and starts nipping at his bottom lip. “I need to ask you something.”

Milah lets out a sigh as she sits on her heels. “What?”

“Did you leave Gold?”

“I told you, I’ll leave him soon.”

He gently pushes her off of him. “I’m sorry, I can’t do this anymore.”

Her bottom lip drops as her eyebrows shoot up. “Do _what_?”

He uses a finger to gesture between the two of them. “This, us… It’s just not working anymore.”

“I promise, I’m going to leave him, Killian. I just need some time.”

“When?” he snaps. “When, Milah? Because you’ve been saying that for three years, and here we are, on my couch at midnight because you had to wait until they go to sleep before you can see me. Don’t you see how terrible that is?”

“What’s changed?” she asks, and while she’s keeping her composure, her voice wavers a bit as fire raises in her eyes. “It’s been like this for years, and suddenly it’s not okay anymore?”

He stands up and grabs his shirt, shrugging it on as he paces his apartment. “It was never okay. I shouldn’t have slept with you  _ever_ , let alone continue this affair ever since. How can you not feel bad about our relationship?”

She stands up and walks in front of him, blocking him from moving around anymore. “Because I don’t love  _him_. I love  _you_ , Killian.  _That’s_  how I don’t feel bad.”

He crosses his arms. “If you really loved me, it wouldn’t have taken three years and numerous declarations for you to leave him. And you  _still_  haven’t. I’m sorry, I just don’t think I can do this anymore.”

“Is this because of Emma?” she spits, and she waves her arms. “How is it any different for you to not call off your engagement than for me to not leave my husband?”

He waves his arms, his voice finally rising. “It was  _fake_ , Milah. It was a fake engagement to get her parents off her back and to get you to finally leave Gold.”

She pushes his shoulders. “Who the fuck does that, Killian? Who fakes an engagement to get someone else to leave their  _husband_?”

“I was desperate, Milah! You weren’t leaving Gold, and I thought you needed the push! But, even then, you  _still_  refused to leave him. And so now  _I’m_  asking  _you_  to leave, because I don’t want to do this anymore.” She didn’t move, her eyebrows lowering. “I don’t want to love you anymore.”

Milah’s mouth frowned, spinning around until she was at the door. “You’re going to regret letting me go, Killian. You’ll never find someone like me again.”

“You’re right,” he says, walking over and opening the door for her. “I’ve already found someone better.”

She huffs, storming out of the apartment and down the hallway without another glance.

There is an odd feeling in the pit of his stomach. Is it relief? He isn’t quite sure how to describe it, but at least he knows it’s step one in turning his life around.

—

“Wow, man. I just assumed that you guys talked about it and decided to be friends.” Robin says, sitting on his green couch. “You really had no idea she liked you?”

It has been eleven days, and he hasn’t heard or spoken to Emma in that whole time. Yesterday, he waited at the diner like he does every Wednesday, but she didn’t come, and all his texts and calls go unanswered.

“Not a clue, although now I see signs that I didn’t before,” he replies.

Robin runs a hand through his hair. “So what’s going to happen now?”

“I don’t know. I can’t really  _do_  anything if she refuses to talk to me.”

“Do you want to be with her?”

“I honestly don’t know, mate. It just feels so weird to me to think of her in that way, but whenever I  _do_ , it feels right.”

“What about Milah?”

“I left her. I realized what Emma had told me all along – she’s not the right woman for me. I was giving a lot more to the relationship she was, and I just couldn’t do it anymore.”

Robin looked down and shook his head. “How’d she take it?”

“Not great, but all she has to do is find the next naïve guy to manipulate and hope her joke of a husband doesn’t find out.” He shook his head. “What am I supposed to do?” he asks, hoping his friend had the answer.

Robin drummed his fingers on the couch. “I don’t know, man. You have to decide what you really want, and if you’re willing to fight for it.”

He looked at his friend, letting out a breath and shaking his head.

“Are you willing to fight for Emma?”

And Killian’s surprised at how easily he can answer that question.

—

When he was seven, he lost his mother and father to a car accident. He was actually in the back seat when a drunk swerved and hit both of them straight on. The fireman used big tools to pull him out, and he was in the children’s ICU for two weeks.

His parents weren’t so lucky.

When he was seventeen, a few mere months before he was going to join the navy with his older brother, Liam was killed in battle. The worst moment of his life was answering the door to two soldiers, looking at him with sad eyes and apologetic smiles.

Is he really willing to let another person he cares about slip right through his fingers? To allow the most important woman in his life go just because a stupid plan fell apart?

He isn’t going to lose anyone again, especially not Emma.

Especially when it would be a  _choice_  to lose her.

—

Killian doesn’t know what brings him to go to her apartment and use the spare key she gave him. It’s become pretty obvious that she wasn’t going to talk to him willingly, and the he decided the first thing he did Sunday morning was to get her back.

He waits on her couch until she wakes up, knowing that she usually sleeps in until 9:00. When she finally leaves her room, rubbing her eyes as she walks out, she nearly screams at his sight, striding over to him and taking a pillow to hit him. “What the hell, Killian? You scared the shit out of me!”

“Stop, stop, please…” she finally drops the pillow and crosses her arms above her chest, staring at him with curiosity in her eyes. “Thank you.”

“What do you want?”

“Why have you been avoiding me?”

“Really, Killian? You  _really_  don’t know why I’ve been avoiding you?”

He sighs before standing up and taking the few steps it takes to walk in front of her. “Fine. I guess my real question is why didn’t you tell me? We’ve been friends for ten years, Emma. We’ve told each other  _everything_ , and it hurts to think you’d keep something like this from me.”

“Because we just… We worked how we were, okay? Telling you that I liked you would just ruin things, make things awkward. Look what happened when you found out!”

“It’s only awkward because you’re  _making_  it awkward. It doesn’t have to be!”

She takes a step back from him, shaking her head. “How could it not be? We’ve been friends forever, Killian. You’re not supposed to fall in love with your friends.”

“Why not?” and without a single sense of hesitation, he lunges forward and grabs her cheeks, pulling her towards and kissing her. Kissing the  _shit_  out of her until she responds, until she melts into his arms,  _until she kisses back_.

And finally, after she gives up fighting him, and gives  _in_  to it, she sighs into his mouth, and it’s the most wonderful sound he’s ever heard.

He doesn’t know how long they kiss, or how she ended up pressed against the wall, or how her hand grasped his hair, or how he’s holding her so tightly that he wants their bodies fused together, but somehow it’s all falling together, and it’s just  _right_.

When he leans back, he gently places his forehead on hers and stares at her eyes until they open. “I wish you had told me sooner,” he says, gently pecking her lips once, then twice, finally pulling back fully to take in her entire face.

“Me, too.”


End file.
